


Three to Tango

by xSpookyxSpicex



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Come Eating, Coming In Pants, Felching, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Polyamory, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:21:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24374953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xSpookyxSpicex/pseuds/xSpookyxSpicex
Summary: The five times Tommy catches Billy and Steve together and the one time he joins them.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Tommy Hagan/Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, unrequited Tommy Hagan/Steve Harrington
Comments: 16
Kudos: 233





	1. Chapter 1

The first time Tommy catches Billy and Steve together is totally by accident, he swears.

They’re at Tammy Thompson’s back-to-school party, where he takes three shots of whiskey: one to bear with Billy’s taunting, two to buck up the courage to finally dump Carol, and the third to decide that tonight will be the night. Tonight, he will tell his best friend since kindergarten how he _really_ feels.

“Steve,” he says to his reflection, choking on his own words. “Steve, I lo-like you. No! Steve, I’m…I think you’re—no, stupid—I think of you…fondly. No, just say it, you fucking idiot!” If he can’t even say it to his own reflection how’s he going to say it at all? It should be so easy. It’s just three little words.

Deep breaths. In. Out. _One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten._ “Steve, I…”

But before another word passes his lips, he hears someone coming. _Shit!_

He could run, but something in the pit of his stomach tells him to hide, so he quickly slips behind a nearby door in the bedroom wall. The closet is tight, stuffy, and reeks heavily of mothballs and old perfume. He almost wants to thank himself for dousing himself in Axe body spray. Still, he is safely hidden, though he can’t say the same for the figure wandering through the room. Even through the tiny crack at the door, he’d know that mullet anywhere.

Billy observes the room, caring very little for the sentiments that surround him, save for the book that he picks up from the bedside table. Tommy never thought he’d see Billy Hargrove, of all people, reading a book. That book all the girls are reading now, _Flowers in the Attic,_ and Mr. I’m-Too-Cool-For-School is reading it. Still, the young metalhead lies on the bed, reads for a while, and…strokes himself? Yeah, he’s just casually palming his dick through his jeans while reading a girl’s book and— _oh, shit!_ —he’s getting hard.

Then the door opens.

Tommy expects Billy to scramble off the bed and leave or at least tell the person at the other side of the door to fuck off, but he does neither. Instead, he smiles—he actually fucking _smiles_ —when he sees Steve.

 _Why are they smiling at each other?_ Tommy asks himself. _They hate each other…right?_

“Nice timing, Harrington,” Billy says. “Virginia and I were just getting acquainted.”

“Sorry, the crowd kinda held me back. Also, since when are you on first name terms with V.C. Andrews? I thought you were more of the Stephen King type.”

Billy shrugs, tosses the book to the side, and stands before Steve. For half a moment, Tommy anticipates a fistfight, until he sees Billy’s arms snake their way around Steve’s waist. _Wait…no!_

“What can I say?” Billy smiles. _He actually fucking smiles._ “I’m everyone’s type. Besides, I’ve got my own king right here.”

_No, no, no!_

Steve, instead of pushing the prick away, grabs Billy by the scruff of his neck and pulls him in for a searing kiss.

Tommy feels a jolt in his stomach. He thinks he should run or at least look away, but instead he freezes. It’s almost like watching a car crash; a new unthinkable that he can’t look away from. He can’t even bring himself to close his eyes, too hypnotized by the way their lips move and their tongues dance. The taboo nature of it is nothing short of erotic. He’s never seen two men kissing before. He only barely manages to look away for all but five seconds until his gaze is drawn back by the sound of breath hitching and clothes rustling. When he looks back, Billy is stripped naked and… _wait, where did those scars come from?_ Steve traces each and every scar as if they were as delicate as flowers. _They look like flowers,_ Tommy thinks. _Flowers made of thunder._

Naked and fused at the mouth, they fall onto the bed, their limbs in knots, and wrapped around each other. Steve only has to open his legs before Billy’s got his fingers inside him and Tommy’s jaw is on the ground. He’s not naïve. He knows how gay sex works…kind of. He just never put much thought into how guys can just _do_ that, but they make it look like second nature. Billy’s fingers seem to move in and out of Steve as if they know every inch of him from the inside out.

“Enough of that,” Steve eventually says _._ “I want you.”

Instead of putting his pants back on and leaving the douchebag, Steve straddles Billy— _Don’t they just do it from behind like in the magazines?_ —and sinks onto his cock.

It only takes Tommy a moment to realize that they aren’t using a condom.

_Are they crazy? I mean, it’s not like Billy’s gonna knock Steve up or anything, but what about that gay plague everyone’s talking about? Unless…oh, God! How long have they been doing this?_

Before Tommy can even think to answer his own question, Steve is riding Billy like it’s the most natural thing in the world to him. Tommy has been told too many a time that it was unnatural for two men or two women to be together, but when he sees Billy and Steve…well, he can’t deny it. There’s something so _right_ about them, like they’re made for each other. Watching Steve rise and fall on Billy’s cock, Tommy can only watch in awe of how it so easily slides in and out of his hole like it belongs there. They seem to move against each other with a certain brutal grace like it’s some kind of dance they’ve been rehearsing for years.

Tommy knows that he should feel jealous when he watches them fuck. He should have felt jealous just watching them kiss. Instead, he can only feel…well, intrigued. He’s never seen anything so beautiful in his life than two guys making love. That’s such a girly thing to say, but there’s no better way to put it.

Steve leans back, resting one hand on Billy’s knee and the other wrapped around his cock, stroking himself to climax. Billy then flips him over, caring little for the still-wet come splashed along his thunder flower scars— _Seriously, what the hell happened to him?_ —and fucks into him at full force until he lets out a low growl.

Then it’s over. Tommy watched as the two other boys cleaned themselves up, picked up their clothes, get dressed, and leave at different times so no one suspects anything. Billy leaves first, though not without a kiss goodbye, which Steve draws out more than Tommy thinks he should.

“Come home with me?”

Billy sighs. “Babe, I can’t. Neil would kill me, you know that.”

Steve pouts. Like, _actually_ pouts. Billy strokes his cheek.

“You’ve got English after P.E. Monday, right?” Steve nods. “Skip it. Pretend you pulled a muscle or something if you have to, but stay in the showers with me. I’ll make it worth the wait, I promise.”

Steve smiles into an oddly chaste kiss before Billy swiftly makes his way out, leaving him to fall back onto the bed with a glowing smile on his face like a girl fantasizing about her first crush. Tommy thinks he’s never looked more beautiful.

“I love you, Billy,” he hears him whisper. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

_I love you, too._

And then he leaves.

Tommy then walks home alone and masturbates to the memory of what he’s just seen.


	2. Chapter 2

The second time Tommy catches Billy and Steve together isn’t _entirely_ by accident.

It’s Monday. He knows good and well what that means. Even if he hadn’t caught them with their pants down at that party, the looks they share throughout P.E.—a smirk here and a wink there—are evident enough. Even in the showers, they can’t keep their eyes off each other. Tommy thinks he should feel sick just thinking about it, but he can’t ignore that look that Steve gives Billy when someone takes one look at those thunder flower scars and asks: “Jesus, Hargrove, what happened to _you?”_

“Car accident,” is Billy’s answer. Somehow, Tommy knows that’s bullshit.

Tommy clears his throat. “Wanna skip English with me, Harrington?”

“Oh, uh…I would, but I was gonna head to the nurse’s office. I think I pulled a muscle during the game.”

Billy is a better liar than Steve. “Okay, suit yourself.”

Tommy gathers his things and turns to go to English. He’s about to leave them be, really, but he forgets something: a pencil. He can’t go to class without a pencil. So he opens the door, only to close it again so that he can search.

So, it’s not _his_ fault they think they’re alone.

“Finally,” he hears Steve say before Tommy hears the smacking of their lips echoing in that tin room. Hiding behind the lockers, he finds a way to get a good look without being noticed. Steve is holding Billy so close it looks like he never wants to let him go. Once they finally part lips, he hears a vague: “I missed you.”

_It’s been two days._

“Missed you, too, babe.”

_It must have been a long weekend._

Before another word of affection is uttered, Steve is on his knees. Billy isn’t even hard by the time he’s in Steve’s mouth and yet his eyes roll into the back of his head and he’s gasping things like “pretty boy” and “sweetheart” and “fuck, I love your mouth!” Tommy suddenly remembers how Carol would find a way to get him hard by randomly sucking him off if she was horny. It always worked, of course, because what kind of guy turns down a blowjob from such a lovely pair of lips? Carol’s lips were always soft and sweet. Steve’s lips…well. _How does he take the length like that?_ Billy’s cock all but disappears into Steve’s mouth. The sound of hollow choking echoes in the tin-made room and for a moment, Tommy is afraid Steve’s about to puke, but he keeps going like he didn’t just gag to the point of tears on another guy’s dick.

But that’s not what makes Tommy’s eyes pop out of his skull.

Steve reaches behind himself and his now soap-slick fingers sink into his asshole the way a girl’s fingers would just as easily slip into her cunt. Tommy thinks back to when he watched Billy finger Steve and he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t try to do it to himself later that night. It hurt and yet there is Steve fingering himself like it doesn’t give him that dry pain that Tommy felt. Better yet, Tommy was barely able to insert even one finger into himself; how the hell is Steve able to manage another two?

As soon as Steve is able to take three fingers, he stands to his feet and kisses Billy again. Tommy had once kissed Carol after she’d sucked him off to completion, mostly out of curiosity, and he remembers being only slightly sickened by the taste of his own semen. Billy kisses Steve like he wants to eat him alive.

That’s when Tommy notices that Billy hasn’t come yet. _Oh!_

Steve whispers something into Billy’s ear and the only words Tommy can make out are: “Fuck me.”

And that’s exactly what he does. He holds him like he weighs nothing and with strong legs wrapped around his shredded and scarred waist, he makes no hesitation in making his way in. Tommy knows how strong Billy is, so it shouldn’t be _that_ much of a surprise that they’re able to do it standing up like Steve doesn’t weigh a thing, and yet it is. His jaw drops to the ground just watching the way Steve’s legs wrap so tightly around Billy and the way Billy’s hips fucking _snap_ against Steve’s.

Tommy finds he can no longer ignore the tent in his pants. Hiding his front with his backpack, he discreetly slips a hand into his jeans. Later, he’ll be kicking himself for being such a goddamned pervert, but for now—as he continues to palm himself while watching them with wide eyes—he couldn’t give two shits. _This is better than porn,_ he thinks and as much as it disgusts him to think so, he isn’t wrong. The way Billy fucks Steve into the wall looks like something out of a dirty movie. It hardly even looks real. Billy can’t be _that_ strong and Steve can’t take _that_ much… _can they?_

 _“_ Fuck, Steve,” Billy growls. “You’re so tight!”

“Just for you,” Steve paints. “It’s—fuck yeah, right there! It’s all for you!”

The words echo against the walls and make their way into the skull as if to taunt Tommy. _Just for you! All for you!_

“That right? This _my_ pretty little hole?”

Steve groans and nods.

“Should fucking well hope so, though I wouldn’t blame anyone for wanting someone as pretty as you, ‘specially that Hagan fella’s always ogling you. Sure as hell wouldn’t blame you for taking any cock or cunt thrown your way, like the little slut you are.”

“But I’m _your_ little slut.”

Billy kisses Steve so deep that it’s a wonder their lips aren’t bleeding by the time they part for breath. “You’re goddamn right.”

“Yes, yes, yes! God, Billy, I’m so close!”

Billy picks up his pace, hard and fast enough to make his boyfriend— _I guess_ —fucking scream for him like a girl until he’s coming. Tommy guesses that Steve has been waiting all weekend for this moment. He probably hasn’t even jerked off since that party because he just keeps coming and coming. Thick ropes of come splash all over those thunder flower scars and even then, he begs for more.

“Don’t stop,” Steve begs. “Fuck, please, don’t stop!”

Billy doesn’t stop until his own come is dripping from Steve’s hole.

_Jesus Christ!_

When it’s over, Billy slowly lets Steve back onto his feet. Gathering enough soap, they clean each other up from all the mess they’ve made of each other until they’re locked in a more chaste embrace. There’s a strange tenderness to the way Billy holds Steve. Tommy can’t tell whether it’s the way he strokes his hair or whispers sweet nothings into his ear. Maybe it’s the way they look at each other or the way they make each other laugh. Whatever it is, it would make him smile if he wasn’t so close to the edge.

Tommy has to bite his lip to keep from crying out and cursing himself. After all that, it’s a kiss that makes him cream his pants.


	3. Chapter 3

The third time is almost on purpose.

Tommy takes a shortcut home from school. He’s just passing by the quarry when he hears an odd noise and gets a faint whiff of weed in the air. The closer he gets, the clearer the sound becomes and it almost sounds like growling drowned out by an electric sting. He eventually recognizes the sound as music.

 _If you can call it that,_ Tommy thinks.

“ _Trick or treat, sweet to eat on Halloween and New Year's Eve_ ,” sings Mötley Crüe from the blue Camaro that Tommy would know anywhere. Billy’s car is vibrating and its windows are clouded over. Two blurred shadows move together so vigorously they could shake the ground beneath them. One of the shadows is pale and moving above the other darker shape. Eventually, he sees a clear hand pressed against the car’s back window, wiping away the mist as if to offer Tommy a keyhole to peek through.

Although he can’t see much, he can tell that Billy is only partially clothed while Steve is stark naked and bouncing on his lap. Every now and then, he can see Steve’s sweating brow furrowed in agony and his full lips parted in ecstasy. Billy isn’t motionless. One arm is wrapped around Steve’s waist, holding him close, while the other is hidden but shaking. _He’s jerking him off,_ Tommy guesses.

“ _Girls! Girls! Girls!”_ Mötley Crüe continues to sing (or scream) about, which Tommy can’t help but laugh at, considering what he’s looking at. “ _Girls! Girls! Girls!”_

Swallowing hard, Tommy feels himself harden. He should feel embarrassed that he should pop a boner on the edge of the woods in the middle of the afternoon, but strangely enough, he doesn’t. If anything, it’s the thrill of even being on the edge of the woods watching two guys fuck in a car that makes him even harder. Even the thought of them catching him is enough to make his cock twitch with excitement.

Until they do.

“ _I’m such a good, good boy…”_ Steve catches Tommy’s eye for a mere moment before he hides behind the nearest tree. _He only saw me for a second,_ he tells himself. _Maybe two or three._ It was barely even a second, really. For all he knows, Steve probably doesn’t know it’s him and another discreet glance tells him that he probably doesn’t care. “… _I just need a new toy.”_

Soon, their cries are no longer drowned out by the music. Tommy can hear Billy’s filthy mouth telling Steve to come for him. Steve sounds like a fucking porn star he’s moaning so loud— “Oh, Billy! Fuck, you’re so big! Yeah, fuck me! I’m gonna come, Billy! Billy!”—until he comes. Boy, does he come! Billy follows not too long after and seems to make sure Tommy can hear just how hard he comes.

They’re kissing when Tommy dares to look back. He’s suddenly brought back to a week ago when watching them kiss was enough to make him jizz his jeans like a sexually frustrated thirteen-year-old. There’s something different about this kiss, though, and he can’t tell whether it’s the way they look at each other between kisses or whatever it is Billy just said to make Steve smile like that.

_Forget the names, remember romance. I got the photos, a menage et trois…_


	4. Chapter 4

The fourth time is kind of on purpose.

It’s a slow Friday afternoon and Tommy is gagging for a smoke. Normally he would sneak under the bleachers to light up, usually with a friend or two who wanted to bum him one, but it’s raining cats and dogs outside and Hawkins gets cold as balls in October. This time of year, he often wonders how girls can wear slutty Halloween costumes when he can barely even keep his own lighter aflame. _Good luck trying to light up on a day like this,_ he thinks to himself. _Boys’ room, it is._

Tommy marches his way through the hallway, ignoring anyone who says even a simple hi to him and picks up his pace when he sees Billy talking to Steve. He does his best to avoid looking at them, but he can feel their eyes on them even as he quickly passes by. For a moment, he wonders if they can hear his heart racing.

With a pounding chest and a heavy sigh of relief, Tommy rushes through the empty bathroom, locks himself inside the nearest cubicle. Once he pops his last cigarette into his mouth, he tries to light up, but it seems the rain has bested his poor lighter.

“C’mon,” he groans. “Piece of shit!”

_Click, click, click…crash!_

Tommy almost jumps from his seat when he hears the bathroom door burst open. Two sets of footsteps scuttle past him and he hears the sound of smacking lips. _Seriously?_ He tries to shrug it off and tell himself that it’s probably just some sophomore sneaking his girlfriend into the boys’ room to fool around. He isn’t entirely wrong.

“We better be quick about this,” he hears Billy murmuring between heated kisses. “We don’t have much time.”

Steve chuckles and Tommy imagines his voice is muffled from kissing Billy’s neck because he can hear Billy shuddering. “Like _you’ve_ never skipped class.”

“Not English.”

“You’ve read _Frankenstein_ enough times to memorize it by heart, Billy. You know how it ends. Why waste an hour and a half studying a book you’ve already read when you could be getting off with me?”

“Fair point.”

The first thought that comes to Tommy’s mind is the bizarre idea of Billy reading anything at all. _Then again,_ he reminds himself. _He_ was _reading at Tammy’s party…and touching himself…and then fucking Steve._ The second thought is that he ought to stand on the toilet so they don’t see his feet, which is exactly what he does. The third and most important thought is that Billy and Steve are headed towards the cubicle next to his and they’re not there to use the toilet.

Tommy sees sneakers and combat boots shuffle past his cubicle until the door next to his cracks open. When it’s closed shut, he hears heavy panting between the continued smacking of lips. He sees Steve’s sneakers near the back of the cubicle, overpowered by Billy’s combat boots.A few moans and groans later, Tommy hears the light _clink_ of metal before a small _zip_. Before long, Steve’s jeans are piled to the ground and Billy is on his knees.

Biting his lip to keep from moaning himself, Tommy remembers the way Steve looked with Billy’s cock in his mouth and wonders how Billy looks with Steve’s in his own. As if reading his mind, Steve seems to narrate for him.

“Oh, Billy!” Steve whines. “God, I love your mouth! Still don’t know how you take me so deep.”

Tommy hears a wet pop as Billy gasps for breath. “Pure talent, pretty boy, I kinda need it if I wanna take even half of you. S’no wonder they call you _King_ Steve.”

Steve both laughs and groans at the same time. “Fuck, don’t stop!”

Tommy hears Billy almost choke when he has his mouth back on Steve and he imagines the pretty boy grabbing the young rebel by the hair and forcing himself down his throat. The mental image alone is enough to make his cock twitch, but if he didn’t know any better, he’d say they were putting on a show for him. Steve keeps telling Billy how warm and wet his mouth feels and how well he’s able to take his cock down his throat like a porn star. Billy sure as hell _sounds_ like a porn star by the way he keeps moaning on Steve’s dick, until…

“Billy, I’m gonna come!”

If he were anyone else, Tommy thinks Billy would take a step back and let Steve come into the toilet to avoid any mess. _But_ , he reminds himself, _Billy Hargrove isn’t anyone else._ He still hears the constant gagging and groaning until a guttural cry tells him that Steve just came down Billy’s throat. Christ, he can only imagine what the punk looks like with spunk dripping from his full, wet, kiss-swollen lips!

But they’re not done yet. Tommy can tell by the way Billy leaps to his feet. He hears them shuffle until he finds Billy’s combats turned around, Steve’s sneakers behind them. _Are they going to…? Here? Now?_ All he hears next is a _zip_ , a _spit_ , and something that sounds like flesh. Tommy recognizes that squelching noise, as anyone in possession of a cock would. Steve is jerking Billy off.

“Oh yeah,” Billy sighs. “Do it! Touch me!”

That wet fleshy sound repeats itself over and over and over until it gets louder and faster, much like the sound of Billy’s voice, which soon goes muffled, probably by Steve’s hand. God, what Steve would be like as a dominant lover! Does Billy like to be dominated from time to time? Christ, the sinful images that swim through Tommy’s head.

 _Squelch, squelch, squelch_ …finally, a sweet sigh followed by a few drops, one of which falls to the floor.

_Jesus Christ!_

Things start to calm down and before long, Steve shuffles his way around and kisses Billy. Tommy remembers when not too long ago just watching them kiss made him cream himself silly. He only wishes he could see them kissing again and not just hear one or the other moaning into the kiss.

“You’ll be the death of me, pretty boy.”

“Don’t say that.” Steve stops groaning and something voice seems to suddenly sink like a stone in the water. “Please, don’t say that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I almost lost you once. I can’t bear the thought of losing you again.”

Tommy furrows his brow. _How did Steve almost lose Billy? Did he get into a fight or an accident? Is that where his scars came from? What the hell happened to him?_ He continues to listen in hopes for an answer to at least one of those questions. Instead, all he hears is a gentle kiss.

“Let’s go,” he hears Billy mutter.

The door creaks open and footsteps make their way across the room. As both boys take their sweet time to wash their hands, Tommy stays as still as he possibly can, which proves to be difficult when he’s crouched over a school toilet with an aching erection. He hears a little click before the door opens and closes. At last, he can heave a heavy sigh of relief. Finally, they’re gone, but no way in hell is he gonna walk the halls with _that_ tent in his pants. Tommy doesn’t know how many memories he replays in his head when he jerks off, but they’re all of Billy and Steve and the one that really gets him off is more of a fantasy that he never thought he would have.

He imagines what it would be like to join them.

When he’s finished, he steps out of the cubicle to wash his hands, casually whistling to himself as though he didn’t just jerk off in a public bathroom to the memory of two guys fucking, let alone the thought of getting in between said two guys. No, sir! No way, no how!

It’s when he’s about to leave that he finds something on the floor that raises an eyebrow. It’s a lighter. It’s Billy’s lighter.


	5. Chapter 5

The fifth time is totally on purpose.

They’re at another party. It’s Halloween and no one would ever guess that Billy and Steve planned their costumes together. Billy looks pretty much the same as he always does, save for a set of fangs and a box of Chinese take-out filled with gummy worms. Steve doesn’t look all too different either, but he wears a pair of shades even indoors and he also has a set of fangs in his mouth. On top of that, they’re both wearing matching charms dangling from their right ears.

_The Lost Boys,_ Tommy thinks with a smirk. _Of course._

He’s been watching them all night. Often, they would party separately. Steve would be making small talk with whatever pretty girl would moon over him while Billy would be mastering the keg stand like a champion. Sometimes, though, Tommy catches them dancing together. They pretend to be drunker than they really are, so everyone can laugh it off as just a pair of guys goofing around at a party, but Tommy knows better. He knows that Billy is a good liar, but there is nothing fake about the way he grinds his hips against Steve’s. He knows that Steve can giggle and groan like he’s pretending to be a girl, but the tent in his pants says otherwise. Above all things, he knows good and well that they aren’t joking around when they almost kiss, just to get those catcalls and wolf whistles amongst the roaring laughter. He knows just how badly they want to kiss.

Of course, it doesn’t take Steve all that long to walk away or for Billy to follow. In to time at all, they’re gone. Tommy tries looking for them, thinking they could be in some kind of danger that they’re too drunk to face—maybe some monster from another dimension—but they’re nowhere to be seen. It’s almost as if they’ve vanished into thin air.

That’s what he thinks until he goes out for a smoke. He almost uses the lighter that Billy had dropped on the ground until he stops in his tracks. Two shadows are moving in the dark alleyway. It only takes one glance to realize what exactly they’re doing. One shadow has the other pinned against the wall and is slowly rocking into it from behind. By the sounds they’re making, it’s clear enough that both shadows are male. He freezes, thinking as hard as he can about what was best to do in this scenario. If he stays put, they’ll see him. If he runs away, they’ll hear him. Eventually, he finds a trash can to hide behind, but can’t stop himself from watching. Soon, his eyes began to grow accustomed to the darkness, Tommy watches as the first shadows begin to take two familiar shapes. As he looks closer, he soon recognizes one shadow by the earring that gleams among a set of brass curls that brush leather-clad shoulders and the other by a pretty face on the brink of ecstasy.

Tommy doesn’t even bother to fight back his arousal, as Billy continues to fuck Steve into the brick wall. Hard. It’s the first time he’s seen them going at it from behind and, at first, he thinks that this should be his ultimate fantasy. He’s always liked fucking Carol from behind and in his _Playguy_ magazines, his favourite photos to jerk off to were of guys going at it doggy style. He can’t even count the times he’s pictured Billy and Steve in that position since Tammy Thompson’s party. He should be creaming his pants by now, but he can’t see their faces. Apart from it being so damn dark, he can only see them in glimpses when Billy’s face isn’t buried in Steve’s neck. For some reason, all he wants is to see them kiss.

Billy’s movements become more erratic, thrusting harder and faster into Steve until they come together. They stay there a while until they catch their breath as if savouring the feeling until Billy pulls out and— _holy shit!_ —eats the cum out of Steve's asshole! Is that something they do? Can a guy eat another guy out like a girl? While there's still jizz in there? Isn't it gross? Billy doesn't seem to think so and clearly Steve fucking _loves_ it 'cause he's still groaning like it's almost too much.

As if they can telepathically hear his thoughts, Steve turns around and kisses Billy. Tommy doesn’t expect either of them to be so gentle with each other, given where they are, what they’d just done, and where Billy's mouth has just been, but there’s something in the way Billy strokes Steve’s cheek. Something so…so… _sweet_. Tommy never thought he’d use that word for either of them, but he can’t think of any other word, least of all when Steve looks at Billy like _that_. Like he’s made of sunshine.

That’s when it hits him. It hurts to admit it, even to himself, but there it is. Right under his nose.

_Shit, they’re in love!_

Tommy comes to a decision then and there. He’ll walk away, he’ll leave them be, and never look back. If he ever walks in on them again, he’ll walk the other way. If he sees them running off together, he won’t follow. If he sees them so much as _looking_ at each other in the way that they do, he’ll look away.

_They love each other,_ he tells himself. _Neither of them will ever love_ you _and why would they? You’re just some pervert. Leave them alone._


	6. Chapter 6

Tommy stays true to his word for the next month. Every now and then, he’ll see Steve giving Billy _that_ look as they pass notes in class and shake his head of it before returning to his schoolwork. He’ll sometimes pass by them kissing in a janitor’s closet or a bathroom stall and walk away. He even goes as far as to avoid going to any party that he knows they’ll attend. Once, while he’s in the middle of a Biology test, he looks out the window to find the Camaro in the parking lot. Maybe it reminds him too much of finding it parked by the quarry, but he’s pretty sure he sees Steve riding Billy. Immediately, he returns to his test.

It’s on another Friday that he decides to skip Spanish class for a smoke under the bleachers. A solitary smoke, he hopes. Fat chance.

“Got a light?” Tommy would know that husky Californian bur anywhere. Billy Hargrove just stands there with his hands in his pockets and a smirk on his face. Tommy doesn’t answer for some time, but Billy takes a seat next to him anyway.

“Sure,” Tommy finally mutters and bums him one. _Shit, I’m still using his lighter!_ “Oh, uh, I found this on the ground. I think it’s yours.”

“Keep it.”

They sit there in painfully awkward silence for a while. It’s awful. A few times, Tommy thinks to start some kind of small talk, but what do you say to the guy you’ve seen fucking your crush?

Mercifully, Billy speaks first. “S’been a while, hasn’t it?”

“I guess.”

“Didn’t see you at Danny’s party last week. What’s that all about?”

“I, er…had other plans.”

“Found a new porn preference, then?”

Tommy feels a sudden jolt in his stomach. “W-wha…?”

“We know you’ve been watching us,” Billy tells him as casually as he would tell the time. “Me and Steve, we’ve known for a while.”

Tommy thinks for a moment that he’s just gotten whiplashed. He feels the sudden burst of a million butterflies racing ‘round and ‘round in his stomach. His mouth moves, but nothing comes out, save for white noise, as his tongue lies frozen behind his teeth. Meanwhile, Billy just stares.

“I-I-I—I’m sorry,” he finally manages to say. “I-It was an accident.”

“At first,” Billy shrugs. “I’ll bet.”

“It was!”

“I believe you.” And that’s it, no questions asked. Tommy half-expects a punch in the face for being such a goddamned perv, but Billy doesn’t even confront him about it. He simply sits there and takes a long drag of his cigarette.

“How?” Tommy has to ask. “I mean, how did you guys know?”

Billy shrugs, as if it’s the most obvious answer since what two and two are. “Steve saw you at the quarry that one time. Said you looked like you were enjoying the show.”

 _I was._ “And you?”

“Tammy’s party. I mean, I always knew you were in the closet, Hagan, but did you have to take it that term literally? You’re such a fucking cliché!”

“How did you know that was me?”

“‘Cause only you would wear that much Axe body spray.”

 _Say something smart._ “Well, I—I didn’t know you were part bloodhound.”

“You kidding me? You practically drown yourself in that shit ‘cause you sweat like a pig after P.E. I could smell that shit from outside o’ the damn room! Seriously, dude, you only need a couple o’ sprays.”

 _Shit!_ “I, uh—I—I-It won’t happen again.”

Billy scoffs. He looks like a dragon with the smoke coming out his nostrils.

“It won’t!” Tommy insists. “I—I know what you mean to each other.”

The classic Cheshire Cat grin suddenly vanishes like the cat itself. That seems to shut him up.

“I thought it was just sex, at first,” Tommy continues. “I always knew he had feelings for you—he loves you—but I thought you were just in it to get laid. I didn’t think you actually cared about him until I saw you at that Halloween party.”

“What made that time so different?”

“It’s the way you look at him, I guess, like he’s the one thing in the world that makes you happy.”

Tommy waits in vain for some sarcastic remark from Billy. All the guy does is take another drag of his cigarette and stare into space.

“Did you know he’s in love with you?” Tommy asks.

“Of course, I know, I’m not an idiot.”

“Do you love him?” No answer. That’s what it hits him. “You do, don’t you? You just can’t say it.”

Billy straightens his back and huffs another cloud of smoke. Suddenly, he’s back to the devil-may-care California rebel that Tommy once thought he knew. “Look, asshole, if I wanted this kinda conversation, I’d go to my fucking therapist. I only came here to ask you if you’re free on Friday.”

 _Fine, if you’re gonna be like that. Also, since when do you have a therapist?_ “Why?”

“Steve’s folks are going to Rome for the weekend. We’re gonna hang out, order some grub, watch a movie, and fuck around. You’re welcome to join us.”

At first, Tommy wonders if Billy is being serious. After all the times he’s caught them boning, he’s really being invited to watch a movie with them? He scoffs. This has to be a joke. “You’re kidding, Hargrove.”

“I’m really not, Hagan.”

“Sure, you are. ‘Hey, honey, you know that pervert who’s been watching us fuck? Let’s invite him over for dinner and a movie!’ Yeah, I’m not falling for it.”

Billy shrugs. “Well, if you _wanna_ be wined and dined, y’only have to say so.”

 _Wait._ Tommy looks back up at Billy with wide eyes. There’s something in the way he looks back at him that he can’t quite put his finger on. He looks different. Softer, even. That’s when he remembers Billy looking at Steve that way in the showers after P.E. _He’s not…is he?_ “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

 _Is this happening?_ “W-wait, you—you mean you’re not angry?”

“Why would we be angry?”

 _Is he for real?_ “I was _watching_ you guys _having sex._ ”

“Yeah, you were. Never said we had a problem with it.”

 _No way!_ “You _liked_ it?”

There’s that smirk again and another shrug like it’s no big deal. “Can’t help being a bit of an exhibitionist, myself, and you’ve probably noticed already, but Steve’s a little cockslut.”

Tommy gulps and feels his cock twitch in interest when Billy gets just a little bit closer.

“You should have seen how hard he came when he found about you watching us at the quarry. He gets off thinking about getting in between the two of us.”

 _Gulp._ “H-he does?”

“He sure does.” Billy leans in, now close enough for Tommy to feel his breath on his neck, to whisper in Tommy’s ear: “Just imagine what he’d look like on his hands and knees, one cock in his ass, the other in his mouth, whining like a little girl until he’s covered in come.”

Tommy’s jeans are now so tight, he fears that any movement will take him one step closer to creaming himself in a semi-public place. It’s humiliating. Billy seems to relish in his torment, as he shows no mercy. The bastard even takes it a step further by pressing a strangely soft kiss behind his ear; that sweet spot that Carol always kissed in order to drive him crazy. He only lingers there for a moment until he takes a step with one last drag of his cigarette.

“Think about it,” he says, throwing the burned butt on the ground and crushing it beneath his boot. “Friday, six o’clock. We’ll try not to start without you.”

Then he’s walking away. Tommy is left with a tent in his pants and a thousand questions in his head. One, in particular, rests on the tip of his tongue.

“One more thing,” he calls, stopping Billy. “Those scars on your body weren’t from a car accident, were they?”

Billy’s jaw clenches. “No, they weren’t.”

“Where did they _really_ come from?”

Only a glimpse of his Cheshire Cat smile returns. “If I told you,” he says. “I’d have to send the Russian Army on you.”

Without another word, Billy is gone.

* * *

Tommy thinks of nothing else for the rest of the week. There is a constant quarrel between the devil on his left shoulder and the angel on his right.

 _Do it,_ says the devil. _Sure, you’ve never been with a guy before, let alone two at once, but you’ve wanted this since you were thirteen. You’ve been in love with Steve for years and Billy…oh, Billy!They’re both hot and they both want you and they’re offering you the chance on a silver platter. What could possibly go wrong?_

Everything _could go wrong!_ screams the angel. _It might be fun for a night, but what will happen the next morning when they get bored of you? Good luck trying to keep a secret as big as this in a town as small as Hawkins. Sure, dad might be too drunk to give half a shit that you’re secretly a fudge-packing fairy but once mom gets back from New York, it’s goodbye, trust fund. Sooner or later,_ everyone _will know you’re a faggot and that’ll be the end of you. You’ll either spend the rest of your daysalone and dying of the gay plague in a shitty hotel room or in a loveless marriage with a dozen brats as reward for converting. All because you couldn’t keep it in your pants._

This never-ending feud turns tempestuous come Friday. It gives him a headache. He needs a drink. God, does he need a drink! That’s when he remembers one of the perks of having a drunk in the family: there’s always extra booze hidden _somewhere_. Tommy can tell by the snoring and white noise that he doesn’t need to creep his way into the utility room. Finally, he finds the half-empty bottle of bourbon.

 _One swig can’t hurt,_ he tells himself. _Bottoms up. Much better._

One drink is all it takes. Not even bothering to leave a note, he throws on his jacket and heads for the door. Steve’s house isn’t very far. Only a half-hour’s walk away through a shortcut he discovered long ago. As he soon approaches the house, so many questions plague him.

He leaves those questions at the door the moment it opens.

“Tommy!” Steve smiles broadly. “You made it!”

Tommy smiles back and nods as he’s invited in. Billy sits lazily on the sofa with a beer in hand and a bowl of popcorn in his lap, illuminated by little else but the flickering light of the TV screen before him. Even then, Tommy can see that familiar smirk on his face. “Just in time,” he says, almost purring. “We were almost about to start without you.”

“Can I get you something to drink?” Steve asks.

“What do you have?”

“Y’know what? Why don’t I show you want we’ve got in the fridge and I’ll let you take your pick?” That’s an excuse to talk to him alone and Tommy knows it. Not that he’s complaining. As they leave for the kitchen, Billy shoots Tommy a wink. He isn’t sure if he wants to kiss or kill the guy.

They make small talk when they enter the kitchen and there’s so much more that Tommy wants to ask. How have you been? What have you been up to? When did you guys start seeing each other? Why him out of all people? Who are you now?

“I really appreciate you coming here, y’know,” Steve says at some point. “I’ve missed you.”

Tommy isn’t sure what else to say except: “I missed you, too.”

“No, I mean, I’ve _really_ missed you. I know we kinda fell out in the past year and I know I called you an asshole last time we spoke…”

“To be fair, I _was_ an asshole and so was Carol. You were right to call us out.”

Steve just nods. “I heard about your breakup, by the way. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It was kind of mutual. Besides, I kinda had my eye on…” Tommy bites his lip, mentally kicking himself for saying anything of that matter. He almost expects to see the old Steve who used to pester him about his crush on Carol before they started dating. The new Steve looks at him in a different way.

“Someone else?” he says in a teasing manner, but not the same aggressive teasing as when they were younger. It’s as soft as the smile on his face. He hands over a can of beer and Tommy swears he can feel a spark of electricity when their hands touch. “I’m glad you’re here, Tommy.”

He can’t lie. “Me too.”

Finally, they all sit down over snacks, drinks, and a movie. Tommy isn’t really paying much attention to the movie. Something about a vampire living next door to some teenager who’s just trying to get laid. Whatever. He’s more interested in the other teens sitting next to him, if he’s honest, ‘cause they can’t seem to keep their hands off each other.

Steve is all over Billy. At first, it’s little more than the casual hand on a knee. Eventually, it escalates to a kiss here and there, each one warmer than the last. One look away and Steve is on Billy’s lap and they’re not just kissing. There are grinding hips and bitten lips, fingers in hair and hands down there. Tommy almost feels like a frog in boiling water unable to escape the heat. He’s not sure if he wants to. All he can do is casually take another swig of his beer and watch them make out.

Steve’s kisses trail their way down Billy’s neck and for a moment, Tommy almost forgets that he isn’t watching from a hiding place anymore. Until Billy looks him in the eye. And smiles. That serpentine smile.

“Steve, baby, that feels amazing, but we got a guest with us, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” Steve giggles. Fucking _giggles_. “Bit rude of me not to share, isn’t it?”

 _It’s okay,_ Tommy almost says and had he any more alcohol, it would simply roll from the tip of his tongue. Before he can so much as open his mouth to say anything, Steve shuffles closer towards him. A soft hand rests on his cheek and for a moment, everything goes blurry.

His lips are softer than Tommy had ever dreamed.

He had Tommy must have had thousands of fantasies about his first kiss with Steve. Some were of chaste pecks on the lips or cheeks and others were of hungry mouths crashing together in a frenzy. For a moment, he wonders if he has died and gone to heaven, but remembers that Billy is still there. Somehow, being fully aware that the punk is watching them is enough toquicken his pulse and elevate the ache his legs.

Before long, he begins to wonder what Billy’s lips feel like. He had only felt them on his neck just the other day, but what would they feel like on his own lips? _Only one way to find out._

Billy’s lips are drier than Steve’s and taste of beer and cigarettes. His tongue is also sharper and quicker to slip through his lips. There’s tooth and claw to his kiss. He bites his lip. He pulls his hair. He scratches his skin. It hurts and it’s amazing!

Clothing flies off, one by one, as Tommy soon begins to switch between the two. Steve’s kisses are soft and sweet. Billy’s kisses are rough and wanton. This goes on for some time—back and forth, back and forth—before their hands start to take part. He feels Steve’s hands stroking up and down his thigh and Billy’s raking though his hair. His own hands find their excitement and he wants–God, he _wants!_

No sooner do the pants fall off does Tommy scramble to his knees. He doesn’t bother with his own pants, even if he’s so hard it fucking _hurts_ under this jeans. For a moment, he thinks to touch himself, but his hands are already being put to better use. He holds Steve’s cock in his left hand and Billy in his right, wondering which to devour first. It suddenly strikes him that he has no fucking idea what to do. He’s never even been this close to an erect cock other than his own, let alone two. He doesn’t even know how to put one in his mouth or which one to choose. Steve is longer. Billy is thicker. Tommy starts with Billy. He hopes that because he is shorter that it won’t make him gag. It does, unfortunately, but Billy doesn’t seem to mind. He then switches to Steve, who still makes him gag. It’s embarrassing, really, and he wonders how girls were able to do this. Hell, Carol must have this to him hundreds of times and never choked to the point of tears.

“It’s okay,” Steve says softly. “I struggled too, at first.”

“Just take it easy,” Billy coos, laying a surprisingly gentle hand on Tommy’s head, guiding him towards his cock. “Slowly, watch the teeth, that’s it. Fuck yeah, that’s it!”

They both guide him, telling them how they like it and how well he’s doing. Eventually, he grows used to the strange new feeling of hard flesh in his mouth. Just hearing the sounds they make is worth the occasional nudge in the back of his throat. Knowing that he is making them feel good is exhilarating! Sometimes he’ll look up to see them kissing and it’s so fucking beautiful he has to stop and watch. If he thought they were hot together before— _fuck!_ And he is a part of it; a part of _them_.

“You guys are so fucking gorgeous!” he blurts out.

Billy chuckles. “You like to watch, don’t you, Tommy Boy?” Tommy’s surprised Billy even feels the need to ask. “You wanna watch?”

“Fuck, yes!”

“Tell us what you want to see,” Steve groans, near blissed out from that last stroke.

Tommy thinks about it for a moment and thinks back to the last time he’d watched them. He still remembers how hard he was just watching Billy take Steve from behind. _Just imagine what he’d look like on his hands and knees, one cock in his ass, the other in his mouth._

“I want Steve to suck me off while Billy fucks him from behind.”

There’s that Cheshire Cat smile again, as Billy turns to Steve. “Sounds like a good idea to me. What do you think, Stevie?”

“I think it’s an excellent idea.”

Tommy’s cock jumps in his jeans. Ripping off those last layers of clothing, he kneels before Steve, who is now on his hands and knees like a dog and looking at him with those big, brown, Bambi eyes. Tommy thinks he’s never looked so lovely until Billy creeps up from behind him, squirts a generous dollop of lube on his fingers, and sinks one into Steve’s hole. Soon, those Bambi eyes are shut tight and those full lips are parted.

“Does it hurt?” Tommy blurts out. It must hurt. He’s got a finger in his ass.

“It doesn’t have to,” Steve explains with a smile. “Might if you’re not careful.”

“Not that I have to be _too_ careful,” Billy adds. “Steve likes it to hurt just a little bit, don’t you, sweetheart? Especially when I do _this!”_

Steve lets out a sudden cry and bites his lip. Billy had to have added another finger without warning, which Tommy thinks _has_ to hurt, but the look on the pretty boy’s face says otherwise.

_What the fuck was that?_

“Y’know how girls have a little sweet spot down there?” Billy says. Had Tommy said that out loud? “Guys have it too.”

“Jesus!”

Tommy can only watch in awe as Billy stretches Steve open. He thinks back to the few times he has tried to finger himself to no avail and takes note of everything that Billy is doing to Steve. Slow, steady, and tentative.

It doesn’t take long for a third finger to breach and when it does, Steve looks up at Tommy with those pleading puppy dog eyes. Knowing exactly what he’s asking for, he scrambles to strip himself of the last piece of clothing on him, letting his cock spring free. Tommy isn’t as long as Steve or as thick as Billy. With a trembling hand, he guides himself between those full lips. Steve practically swallows Tommy whole. It’s far from his first blowjob. Carol was able to take him to the hilt if she was careful. Steve is not careful at all. He’s wet and warm and wild. He all but devours Tommy, caring little for the mess of saliva and pre-come dripping from his mouth.

Before Tommy thinks this can’t feel any better, a muffled moan escapes the back of Steve’s throat, causing a warm vibration around his cock. When Tommy looks up, he sees Billy on his knees with both hands on Steve’s waist, sinking into him. Once buried to the hilt, he begins to move at a steady pace that has Tommy hypnotized. He’s fascinated by the little details of their lovemaking, details he would never have noticed from afar: how Steve’s skin stretches around Billy’s cock, how Billy’s hands knead Steve’s asscheeks like dough, how Steve’s eyes roll into the back of his head, how Billy’s chest rises and falls.

They’ve never looked more beautiful.

Tommy can’t believe he’s a part of this. It almost feels unreal, as though he is somehow lost in his filthiest fantasy. It’s disgusting what they’re doing, at least it should feel disgusting.Three young men fucking on a filthy old sofa surrounded by open pizza boxes and empty beer cans. But it isn’t. Not to Tommy, it isn’t. Not by a long shot. To him, it’s almost a spiritual experience. To not only witness such love, but to be a part of it…it’s exhilarating!

He comes just a little too soon. Steve doesn’t seem to mind, though, as he just lets Tommy spill all over his face like a porn star. For a moment, he sees stars until he opens his eyes to find Steve on his knees and kissing him. He can taste himself on the other boy’s tongue. A pair of harder lips soon replace the softer pair. Tommy now knows this to be Billy’s kiss.

"Love you." It just rolls off of his tongue, as if he’s drunk off both his lovers. Like a trigger, it sets off Steve’s orgasm and, soon after, Billy’s. Tommy can only watch.

For a while, they just lie there. They should take a shower, but they don’t for another hour or two. Tommy isn’t even sure he wants to move a muscle. His body feels heavy, as though in a blissful state in between sleeping and waking. For a while, he can think of nothing else but the way Steve’s head rests on his lap and the way Billy strokes his hair. He’s never felt so at peace.

Eventually, he finds his feet. He should be home soon, but before he can look to search for any item of clothing, he feels a hard hand on his arm.

“Where’re you going?” he hears Billy slur.

“Um, home?”

“Stay.”

Tommy feels another softer hand on his arm and hears a quieter: “Please stay.”

“You guys really want that? I mean, I thought…”

“That it was just a one-night-stand?” Billy interrupts. “You really think we would have asked you over if it was?”

Tommy doesn’t know what to say. Nonetheless, he smiles and lies next to them. They spend the night sleeping, waking, talking, and fucking perhaps two or three more times until dawn. Saturday comes and they do the same thing over again until they agree they should go home, but agree to do the same thing next week.

Years from now, Tommy will look back on this very moment as one the happiest moments of his life, second only to the moment—a year or so from now—he would tell both Billy and Steve that he loves them both and third to the moment—a good five seconds later—that they would tell him that they love him too.

And all because he hid in the closet to catch them banging at a house party.

_Funny how things turn out, isn’t it?_


End file.
